Experiment in Terror 05 On Demon Wings (20 page)

I laughed to myself and raked my nails down his chest

now. Harder.

“Ow,” he cried out, and dipped his chin to exam his

chest where three bleeding lines were apparent.

I leaned forward and cackled in his ear. “Pussy.”

He paused at that for a second.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

I lifted my head and stared at him, my thrusting slowing

down.

“Who do you want me to be?” I answered.

He frowned and I felt another surge sweep through me,

pushing my control to the outer edges of my mind. I almost

said I was sorry but it didn’t come out in time and I took a

swipe at his face with my hand. I left four scratches behind

that slowly began to seep blood from his cheekbone.

Grinning at his shock and the damage I inflicted, I lifted

my other arm. I knew I could do better. He deserved better.

They al did.

Before I could do anything, though, his arm shot up and

gripped my wrist so tightly that my hand folded open like a

limp flower.

“That’s enough,” he growled, and with al of his strength

he flipped me over so he was on top. I squirmed beneath

him and had the idea that if I wanted to, I could throw him

clear across the room. But something inside made me

relent and the fire inside began to smolder as I felt control

and reality flow back through my muscles.

We were both breathing hard, our faces nearly touching,

his eyes sparkled with conflict as they looked into mine.

The blood began to gather at the middle of the cuts on his

face and chest, threatening to drip onto me. It made me feel

a bit sick, something I hadn’t felt when I was administering

the damage.

“I’m al for fun, Perry,” he said. “But sometimes I like to

play nice too.”

He gave me a smal smile. The raise in his cheeks

caused a drop of blood to fal on my own face. I grimaced

and my face grew flush from embarrassment instead of lust.

What the fuck had just gotten into me?

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. I was ashamed.

“Darlin,’ no apologies. Different fucks for different ducks,

as they say. Let’s just...be nicer to each other. Take it

slower.”

He took his thumb and wiped away the splash of his

blood on my cheek. “Now we’re even.”

I managed to laugh at that. Then he kissed me and we

started al over again. The rush of anger and the

uncontrol able surges of power I felt earlier were merciful y

kept at bay. We took it slower this time. I couldn’t come

because I was too afraid to let go this time around but it

was nice. And something I desperately needed. Who knew

that lack of sex would lead to violence? But the slower pace

seemed to satisfy him, as he ultimately came in torrents. As

he pul ed out, peeled off the ful condom and lay down on

the sheets beside me, I made a mental note not to go so

long without getting laid.

Before I got too comfortable I hopped out of bed and did

an awkward, naked scurry out of his bedroom and into the

hal way, where I grabbed my bag and quickly slipped on my

pajamas in the bathroom.

By the time I came back into the bedroom, Maximus was

deep under the covers and snoring slightly. Figures.

I got in beside him and turned my body in his direction,

wanting to feel safe and close. As the traffic continued

outside on the I-5, I fel asleep with a sense of bewilderment

and a smirk of satisfaction on my face.

~~~

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

My mind was a swirling pool of oil and shadows. I

opened my eyes in time for a cold, wet breeze to brush

against my face. It was the dead of night and I was standing

on the same alcove by the river where Maximus and I had

first made out. Only now I was standing on the thick, stone

railing that lined the edge. The river sparkled in the dark

ebb and flow beneath my bare feet. In the distance there

was a clanging of church bel s that never ceased.

“You want to lose control.”

I careful y turned my head to the side without upsetting

my balance. Abby was standing a few feet away, leaning

forward on the cool stone, dressed in only a light pink

sundress that ruffled in the winter breeze. She was looking

down at the river; her eyes matched the water, dark pools

of obsidian.

“You could just jump in, you know?”

“I’m dreaming,” I said thickly, my voice sounding like it

was coming from far away.

“You’l have al the time in the world to dream when

you’re dead.”

She lifted her head and I saw that her eyes weren’t

black. They just weren’t there. Like the pig’s head, her

eyebal s were gone, leaving only dark, roughly cut sockets

behind.

“What do you want from me?” I asked her in my surreal

state. My tongue stil felt swol en and too big to move. It was

then I realized my body had moved one inch closer to the

edge of the railing. I was moving without realizing it.

“We want you,” she said simply. Her voice hummed like

electrical wires.

“Who is we?” I went an inch closer and my stomach

churned.

She walked over in her white heels that made a sharp

noise with each footfal , even though she was floating a few

inches above the ground. She stopped and looked back at

the river. The clanging of the bel s was growing louder.

“I don’t know his name…”

“His?”

“I don’t know
it’s
name.” She looked up at me sharply.

“But I was promised.”

“Promised what?”

One inch gone.

Abby smiled. As her mouth parted, two wasps flew out

from it and up into the sky, their drones fading into the

sound of the bel s.

“Promised
you
.”

My feet were now hanging over the edge of the rail, the

water churning furiously below like a raging whirlpool ready

to swal ow me whole. It al pulsed with each clang of the

unseen bel s.

I took one last glance at Abby.

“Why me?”

Even with empty eye sockets, she managed to look

surprised.

“Because it wasn’t my fault I died,” she said like I was an

idiot. “It was his.”

“Revenge,” I whispered. The breeze took my words and

carried them over the waves.

My feet moved another inch. There was nothing left to

support me. I didn’t even swing my arms to save my

balance. I just fel silently to the side like an unsupported

pil ar, down, down, down to a river with teeth and black,

lapping tongues.

Even though I woke up the next morning to the tongue-

melting smel of bacon wafting in from Maximus’s kitchen

and bright sunlight streaming in through the windows, the

vague recol ection of my dream was enough to maintain a

low level of creepiness. I lay back in bed, listening to

Maximus whistle Johnny Cash’s “Understand Your Man”,

and pushed the dark and moldy images out of my head. I

kept seeing the fathomless river rushing to greet me, a

whirlpool for a hungry mouth, the sound of indignation in

Abby’s metal ic, Minnesota voice. The promise someone –

something – had made to her. The promise to have me.

I shuddered despite the warmth of the bedroom and was

relieved when Maximus cal ed out from the kitchen, “Do I

hear you stirring in there, sunshine? Breakfast is ready.”

I smiled at his effortless tone and eased myself out of

bed. My muscles, especial y my thighs and arms, ached

from their unexpected usage last night. Everything else

though felt OK and I was in no pain.

I swung my legs out from under the covers. I started to

lower my feet to the floor but paused. Something was

amiss.

I lifted one leg and peered at the bottom of my foot. It

was rubbed black with dirt.

My other foot looked exactly the same. I anxiously lifted

back the covers. The area where my feet had been had

scatterings of dirt across it, like I had gone on an epic walk

in my bare feet and crawled back into bed without cleaning

myself off.

A vicious knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Last

night had to have been a dream. I mean, I wasn’t wet. And I

certainly wasn’t dead.

“Darling?”

“Coming,” I said unable to control the warble in my voice.

I quickly brushed al the dirt off of the sheets and tucked the

cover back down. I vigorously rubbed my feet against the

grey carpeting, glad that the scratchy cheapness and

forgiving color would hide the evidence. I couldn’t explain

why, but I didn’t want Maximus to know about this. Not yet,

at any rate.

He had laid out a white robe on top of my duffel bag, so I

pul ed it on and walked out into the rest of the apartment.

The newness and generic quality of the factory-churned

apartment no longer made me feel safe. How could I be

safe when I was leaving places like this in the middle of the

night and going on little night hikes?

“Are you al right? You look a bit pale,” Maximus said as

I came into the kitchen. He flipped two slices of bacon onto

a plate of eggs and toast and nudged it toward me with his

elbow. “That’s al for you, sunshine.”

“Thank you,” I said with as much graciousness I could

muster. I took the plate and sniffed at it with appreciation.

“I’m just a bit…tired.”

He nodded with a smile and twisted around to grab

some salt from the spice rack. It was then I saw his face,

the four thin, scabbing scratches that stretched from his

cheekbone down to the side of his mouth.

I gulped and gripped the plate extra hard so I wouldn’t

drop it.

He raised his brow at me, then his lips twitched

sheepishly. “Oh right, my face. I’m tel ing you Perry-”

“I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, cutting him off. I put the plate

on the counter with a clatter and reached up for his face,

gently pressing my fingers along the cuts. It actual y suited

him, adding an additional layer of ruggedness and

mystique, but it stil shamed me. I wasn’t that violent of a

person, and I’d never been rough during sex before.

He grabbed my hand and kissed it, his eyes never

leaving my face. He didn’t seem mad or put-off but it didn’t

make me feel any better. “No worries. I reckon I probably

deserved it.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” I told him. But as soon as

those words left my mouth I was second-guessing them.

He shrugged and gave my hand a squeeze. “I wouldn’t

blame you. But, hey, sometimes the first time is bit wishy-

washy. I reckon we’l find our groove.”

Placing a kiss on my cheek, he sprinkled extra salt on

his eggs and took it to the table. The thing was, I didn’t

know if there would even be another time to find our groove.

Now that it was the next morning and the steam and lust

from the night had died down, I couldn’t spend too much

time having a relationship with Maximus. I didn’t even know

if I wanted one. Maybe I just wanted to get laid. What I did

know what there was something much larger I needed to

concentrate on.

I sat down across from him and helped myself to a pot of

fresh-brewed coffee.

“How close are we to a library?” I asked him between

sips.

“You’re the Portland native, little lady,” he pointed out as

he cradled the mug in his large hands. “Going to do some

reading, are we?”

“I am.”

“Do you care for the company of a gentleman?”

I looked around me mockingly. “I would but I don’t see

any.”

He chuckled to himself and tucked into his food. “Wel

you just let me know then.”

“You can come if you help me. And not laugh at me. Not

judge me.”

He paused, his eggs balancing on his fork. “Why would

you say that?”

I leaned forward, making sure he knew how serious I

was. “I’m getting books out on demon possession.”

I could so tel he wanted to say something to change my

mind but to his credit he swal owed it down. Literal y, I could

see his Adam’s apple bob against his long throat.

“What brought this on?” he asked in a steady voice. His

eyes were a bit glazed as if he were already judging me in

his head.

“It’s just something I’ve obviously been thinking about.”

“But Perry, demon possession is one thing. A ghost is

another. They aren’t the same things.”

“They are similar,” I protested.

He shook his head adamantly, his eyes widening. “No

they aren’t. A ghost is the spirit of a dead person. They’re